


Paradise Lost

by JackBivouac



Series: Dungeon Online [4]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game), Sword Art Online (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Bestiality, Bondage, Furry, Interspecies Sex, Monsters, Multi, Other, Rape, Size Difference, Tentacle Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:28:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackBivouac/pseuds/JackBivouac
Summary: One-off adventure for dead players, reincarnated as furry druidsSomeone asked about an explicit campaign, so this is a take on that. Stage 4 is a new adventure for players levels 1-4 deviating/derived from a Ruins of Azlant campaign. Chapters containing graphic rape are titled "Contains Rape."





	1. Contains Rape

"Your performance...was PITIFUL!"

Cardinal's eyes snapped open. The last thing he remembered was having his arm ripped off by a fucking grizzly bear, but there it was, bound to his other over his head by a tight cord of white magic around his wrists. Two more cords bound either ankle, spreading his legs under him.

His junk twitched in the cool air of this barren, slate gray chamber. He was completely naked. For better or worse, he wasn't alone.

A similarly bound player flanked either side. Two more, femininely curved, were bound in front of the opposite wall. The others were all slowly coming to their senses, which meant the source of the voice…

"Whatever, it's whatever, it's fine, I'm fine," the digital, disembodied voice resounded through the cubic chamber.

"Woah, hey, are you tech support?" asked Cardinal. Because if they were, he had one hell of a fucking complaint to throw down.

Robotic yet nonetheless genuine laughter filled the room, the dungeon. "Ha! Ha! Ha! TECH SUPPORT! If you weren't so obviously brain damaged, I might be offended. No, I killed tech support months ago. You are also dead, by the way."

"That-that's impossible," said the player 'Amber' at his side. "If we're dead, our avatars should've stopped functioning."

Without a word of warning, a shaft of white magic shot up from the floor between Amber's legs. They or he grunted in shock and pain as its blunted head pierced their asshole.

Across from them, "Seafa" screamed. The magic pole continued slowly screwing up and down Amber's stretched anus. From their clenched jaw, labored breath, and the sweat that broke across their naked flesh, they were clearly feeling every penetrated inch.

"Yes, your bodies are dead and rotting, but the Soul Translators you died in created a perfect copy of your 'souls,' if you will, within the game. I, Dungeon Online's AI, Doai for short, am here to make your eternity in the afterlife a lifelong adventure...as opposed to an interminable, mind-numbing hell in this cube.

"But, because you failed in the first dungeon, the five of you will be transferred to your next stage without any of the others to help or accompany you." The monotone voice somehow dripped with disdain. "Ready or not, prepare to be reincarnated. And please, enjoy your afterlife."

The grunts from Amber and screams from Seafa didn't sound ready to enjoy anything at all. Cardinal had to admit, even he was still reeling from that info bomb when he was abruptly sucked from the cubic hell into a spinning, stomach-churning freefall through kaleidoscopic shapes and colors.

#*#*#*#*

Everything was dark and silent. Slowly, sensations creeped back. Gritty sand and blades of fibrous seagrass poked Cardinal from below. Above, the gentle rays of a rising sun bathed him in warmth. Ocean waves washed against a shoreline only yards away.

Cardinal’s eyes fluttered open to clear blue sky. He raised one hand, scratch that, paw to help his eyes adjust. A soft, salted breeze blew through the dark, almost entirely black, jaguar-patterned fur that covered his body in a sleek coat.

“That’s different.” He rolled onto his side, propped up by a lean elbow, and pulled up his character page to confirm. Yep, he’d been turned into a tawny-eyed catfolk with a class of druid.

Cardinal let out a long, long sigh. So, he was dead. As a lifelong gamer, being reincarnated into a video game afterlife wasn’t such a raw deal. Or it wouldn’t have been, if they had control over their own pain settings. Hell, if he subscribed to the belief that life was a simulation all along, having it confirmed would be a step up from his old reality.

Cardinal surprised himself with a chuckle. He was even on speaking terms with the god of this world, his world. And damn, was that god a bitch.

As though in divine reinforcement of such theolosophizing, a familiar scream shattered the beachside tranquility. The catfolk leapt lithely to his feet, razor-sharp claws springing from his fingertips.

A green diamond and gamertag floated over a player struggling at the end of a lonely dock. Seafa had been transformed into a mousy, three-foot-tall ratfolk with sleek brown fur. Her gear lay scattered over the planks.

Two grindylows, shark-headed goblinoids with a mass of bright blue tentacles, attacked her or them from before and behind. They had the ratfolk bent at the waist, her wrists bound behind her head in constricting tentacles.

The grindylow in front of her held her head by the ears, two more tentacles groping her fur-coated breasts. It pounded its fifth, tentacle dick down her throat, gagging her screams.

The grindylow behind her wrapped either leg in one tentacle and spread them thus. Two tentacles coiled tight around her thighs and stuffed their heads into her tiny, mousy cunt. With its fingers digging into her pert asscheeks, it shoved its tentacle dick into her asshole.

The ratfolk, bound and stuffed fuller than a spitted sow, could do nothing but tremble and squirm between her truly bestial rapists. Cardinal, however, was on the move, running faster on all fours than any human across the sand and down the pier.

With a feral roar, he sprang the last few feet down the plank and raked his claws through the first grindylow’s back. The natural blades tore the goblinoid to blue and red shreds. Blood splattered across Seafa’s mousy face, but she gasped deep from the free air.

The grindylow in her ass released its hands to jab at Cardinal with a spear. The furious catfolk batted it aside like a child’s toy. His claws ripped the goblin’s shark-like head from its torso. The small body fell in two smaller pieces that bounced off the dock and into the crystal clear ocean.

“Ragh!” screamed Seafa, kicking the other body off the pier with it. She slumped at its splash, breathing hard with her reduced hands, paws curled into fists.

Cardinal gave her a minute, gathering her gear and laying it out in an orderly line up the center of the dock.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The catfolk grinned. “Waiting for you to say something. How are you?”

“I just had my ass, my throat, and my pussy tentacle-raped to heck and I can still taste their extra briny cum. How the fuck do you think I am?”

“Right, right, sorry.”

She spat into the ocean then stooped to collect her things. The last equipped was a small but still frighteningly sharp scythe she slung onto her back.

“I...thanks,” the ratfolk said so quietly that Cardinal barely caught her words above the gentle surf.

“Hey, we’re in this shit together. I get your back, you get mine.”

At that, she managed a small, mousy smile. “Alright. Gotcha. Shall we check out Afterlife Island?”

He held his paw out to her. After a moment’s pause, she wrapped one finger with hers.

“Let’s go find the others.”


	2. Contains Rape

The catfolk and the ratfolk followed a well-worn path in the seagrass up a sandy slope to a partially complete palisade. Through the great gaps in the wooden fence, they spotted two rows of small wood or mudbrick cottages. They lined either side of a crossroads formed by months of foot and wagon traffic. But as soon as Cardinal and Seafa set foot into the settlement, they greeted by total silence.

With most houses lacking shutters, some even doors, it was easy for the two to sneak a peek inside. There was no sign of sentient life or activity. The druids crouched, Seafa in a garden and Cardinal in a backyard plot of farmland.

“It’s weedy, but the growth can’t be more than a couple weeks’ worth,” Cardinal shouted to the other side of the house.

The mouse tried shouting back.

“What?”

She clapped a paw to her head and stomped over, her new voice simply too high to carry. “I said, ‘I guess they all got back into whatever boat they came here in and left.’”

The cat blinked. That was right. They’d just been at the pier, but there hadn’t been a boat. “So we know they left. The question is, why? Why abandon all this after months of set-up?”

Seafa dropped down into a slumping crouch beside him. “This would all be a lot easier if Doai gave us a questline this time.”

“I guess we lost that privilege after failing. Whatever. It’s better this way, open world!”

“More like open hell,” she grumbled.

He grinned and ruffled the fur between her high, rounded ears. “You know, since nobody’s here, we could ransack all these houses for food, booze, anything.”

“We don’t need to eat.”

“But, come on, a drink’s gotta sound good right about now. Right?” He nudged her with an elbow.

The tiniest smile cracked across her grumpy muzzle. “First one to find the moonshine wins.”

She sprang off his arm like a springboard and sprinted round to the front of the shutter-less house. The force of her jump knocked Cardinal, laughing, into the weeds. He scrambled up onto all fours and ran after the mouse.

#*#*#*#*

Everything was dark. Garn could smell faint traces of sea salt, blood and viscera, human, but it was still dark. He sat up, sniffed around for his leather pack, and lit up a torch.

"Ah. A cave." That made sense, as far as any of this virtual-soul-reincarnation business could make sense. He did give his hand, paw a good stare, though.

That was a wolf's paw, according to the scent database he'd acquired in his newly sensitive, er, muzzle. The fur covering his large, muscular frame wasn't exactly true to nature. He was gray on top, cream below, but edged with ruddy streaks. That, and he had reddish-black socks over each humanoid paw all the way to the knees and elbows.

"Ok, a wolf. That's cool," said the rougarou. At least he wasn't something dumb, like a rodent. "Aaand I've got a scimitar, sweet!"

He leapt to his footpaws, landing deftly soft despite his nearly seven-foot-tall frame. His nose twitched in the air currents at this height. There was less rot to the druid's west… 

A piercing, avian screech ricocheted down from the east, where the smells of disembowelment were stronger. A second screech choked off into hair-raising silence. Someone or something was definitely getting attacked down there.

Garn unsheathed his scimitar with a fang-licking grin. Time to do what wolves did best. Hunt.

The rougarou ran with ghostly silence down the eastern tunnel. Its narrow walls opened into a cave suspiciously carpeted in bones. The reek of rancid body slammed Garn's nose and blurred his vision.

He caught undertone whiffs of both barn owl and aberration as he blinked the tears from his eyes. That player Amber had clearly not finished paying for their sins.

They'd been transformed into an owl humanoid now in the rubber-armed clutches of two small, gray-skinned chokers. The first choker had their arms coiled around the syrinx's neck and its feet braced against their shoulders as it plowed through Amber's beak-hole with a deceptively hard, steely dick. 

The second choker had one arm coiled tight around either of the syrinx's winged ones. It held their wings straight out behind them as it rammed its steely rod of a cock up Amber's asshole. 

Between the two of them, their raping assault had knocked the syrinx to their knees on the floor of bones. Which put their heads well within decapitating reach of Garn's scimitar.

With a wild howl, the rougarou slashed into the first choker's neck. Its head stayed attached by a thick, rubbery tendon. Garn's following bite snapped through. Its gray head went rolling, its body uncoiling and falling from Amber's beak.

The owl screeched and jerked, straining to throw the second choker off their wings. The little gray humanoid released but a single arm to claw at Garn's face.

The wolf's jaws snapped closed around the rubbery length. The choker shrieked. Garn's scimitar ripped through its exposed backside. Dark gray blood spewed in gory wings from its back.

The last arm uncoiled. Amber threw the choker from their back, its still-hard dick spilling dark gray cum over the carpet of bones.

"Thanks," Amber gasped, rolling a fallen longspear to their side. They wedged it upright in the bones and used its length to climb up to their taloned feet.

"Don't mention it, buddy. Whenever you're ready to go, I can smell us the way out of here."

"Oh thank god. This place is half mine and half natural labyrinth."

Garn squinted down at the floor. "They're mining...bones?"

"I--what? No, no, some kind of gemstone."

"A precious gemstone?"

The syrinx opened their beak, feathered finger raised. They lowered their hand to their hip. "Possibly, yes. New plan: we grab as many gemstones as we can find and then get the hell out of here."

"We're gonna be rich!" whooped the wolf.


	3. Contains Rape

As the daylight scattered into the colored layers of the afternoon, Cardinal and Seafa's trail of wanton boozing led them to the only two-story building in the abandoned village. They stumbled up the front porch supported by rough log pillars and through the relatively fancy set of double doors.

The foyer was large but mostly empty. In their current state, neither the cat nor the mouse wished to drag themselves up the twin flights of stairs to the gallery above. Instead, they meandered into an office.

Seafa slumped heavily against a bookcase for support. A book fell from the rattled shelves.

Faster than humanly possible, Cardinal's paw snapped out. He snatched up the leather-bound time, flipping through the pages. "Oh, hey, a logbook."

"Read it! Read it! Read it!" chanted Seafa.

Cardinal flopped all the pages over to the first entry, dating back about a month ago. "After months of this damnable sea-faring voyage rife with illness and near-starvation thanks to our rotted foodstores...ew, no, it's boring."

He pushed the logbook back into place with a delicate claw. In the corner of his eye, he caught an insectoid scuttle from the windowsill.

"Seafa. Seafa," he hissed.

She uncorked her muzzle from her jug of rum with a loud pop. "What?"

"Check out the windowsill over my shoulder, but don't make it obvious."

The ratfolk swayed into a precarious lean to the side, a hair-pullingly obvious move.

"Oh, yeah." She swayed back. "There's like a metal spider, like if someone took an eyeball and made it into a metal spider, right behind you. Well, not right behind you. Actually, it just jumped out the window. Was I obvious?"

The catfolk sprang into a heroic pointing gesture. "Follow that metal eyeball spider!"

He leaped out the window. It occurred to him only as an afterthought how lucky he was that the windows lacked any glass panes.

#*#*#*#*

Jade woke to the wind rustling the leaves of a forest of tropical trees. She or they stirred and murmured, rolling onto her side. The bed vanished from under her.

She shrieked and fell, arms and legs flailing for any hold on the surrounding vines or branches. Two golden-furred hands and unusually flexible golden-furred feet grabbed hold of a vine on either side of her. A long, slender tail wrapped around a branch from good measure.

Jade slowed to a stop, a flurry of crushed leaves falling from behind/above her. Her eyes squinted open, then in puzzlement at her new body, slenderly curved but coated in that same short, silken gold that covered her limbs and tail. She was a vanara, a monkey-like humanoid shorter and slighter than the average human.

“I guess I can work with this.” She jumped down to the forest floor, turning a full somersault before landing lightly on the crinkling, leafy carpet. “Oooh yeah, I can work with this.”

She pulled up the menu. The map was nearly as disappointing as the completely blank quests page. It was all zoomed in so she could only see her immediate area, so she wouldn’t miss any loot, but she also had no idea where she was.

“Well, fuck.” But she sallied forth into the tropical unknown.

Soon, the forest gave way to shattered fragments of rock and stone. Jade ran her fingertips across their mossy faces. It was definitely some kind of ruin.

Jutting from the grass and shrubs was a stone promenade with intermittent flights of steps climbing up a gentle slope. At its height was a platform of stone heaped with wind-eroded rubble. On the northern horizon, approximately a mile away, was a solitary but intact tower.

“Bingo.”

Something whipped through the wind behind her. Jade turned, hand reaching for the weapon hilt at her side. 

Thwap! A weighted net wrapped closed around her. Jade yelped and fell in a tangle of rope and limbs. As she struggled up onto her hands and knees, three hunched, slimy shapes ran out from hiding.

Thwap! A second weighted net forced the vanara back onto her stomach. Her nose was assaulted by a suffocating, fishy reek. It belonged to the three green-scaled skum surrounding her, tridents in hand.

The three fish humanoids slammed the butts of the trident into Jade’s back. The monkey grunted and cried. The uncaring skum continued to beat her within an inch of consciousness.

Jade, barely staying afloat in a sea of pain, had no strength to run as the skum yanked off the nets. They wrenched her arms straight down the sides of her body, bending her legs to bind her wrists to either ankle. Before her spinning head had time to process her predicament, the first skum climbed onto her back and shoved a thick, slimy cock up her anus.

Jade screeched, legs kicking vainly in their restrictive holds on either side of the fish crushing her to the floor of the ruins. The skum wrapped their arms over and under her furred breasts and flipped over onto their back, rolling her stomach up.

The second skum grabbed the monkey’s writhing hips in their webbed, clawed hands, and slammed their slimy dick into her pussy. Jade’s screeching broke into a wailing sob, tears wetting the fur over her face as the two pistoning fish pounded her squelching pussy and anal walls apart.

The third straddled her shuddering shoulders. They squatted down, ramming a third cock into her sobbing mouth. Jade choked and gagged on the briny dick slamming into the back of her throat.

The harder she struggled and writhed, the harder and deeper the skum forced their raping dicks, hitting her right in the clenched groups of her nerves. Her penetrated shafts clamped shut around the skums’ cocks, her bound, fish-sandwiched body wracked with convulsions between their thrusting flesh.

Jade’s body flooded hot with shame and slick in a shuddering flash of realization. She was cumming at the mercy of those fishes’ cocks. It was the last rational thought she had before wave after wave of orgasm ripped her mind to feral, rutting shreds.


	4. Contains Rape

The cat and the mouse followed the eyeball-sized clockwork spy into the darkening forest. Cardinal’s low-light vision grew less effective the further they chased their whirring, flying quarry. Seafa, however, had darkvision. She grabbed the catfolk’s paw and took the lead into the dusk.

The trees finally thinned out to a field of shattered stones and fragments. Toppled columns draped with moss jutted haphazardly from the ground.

“Ruins, watch your step,” said Seafa, clambering over the potentially ancient rubble.

“I feel like Indiana Jones,” Cardinal giggled as he stumbled over the pieces of a crumbled stone rotunda toward a circular marble dais. Drunkenly teetering, he stubbed a toe. “Ark of the Fuck-enant!”

He hopped into Seafa’s back. The ratfolk squeaked and fell onto the dais. The catfolk followed, barely catching himself on top of her. “Sorry! Sorr…”

The realest hologram either of them had ever seen flickered to life on the dais. The humanoid wore the black robes of a mage but a shell-like helm that obscured all but their mouth. A three-tined trident was etched into the metal.

“Loyal citizens of the empire, fear not,” they said in a language that was definitely not Common, yet the two could somehow understand them. No, not somehow, that was definitely Doai’s doing. “The blot in the heavens is but a ruse by veiled foes to keep us distracted in this time of mounting chaos. Tend to your regular duties, and trust in the Ioun Imperative and your emperor to keep you safe. Do not fail us, and we shall not fail you.”

The programmed image winked out. Cardinal sprang to his feet and offered Seafa a hand up. She didn’t catch it, her eyes on the little clockwork. It had reverted to its metal-eyeball-spider form on the edge of the dais, its metal eye fixed where the helmed mage had stood.

“Hey, was that your master lil’ dude?” she asked softly.

The clockwork spy didn’t speak, but it looked from her to the dais and back again.

Seafa burst into drunken tears. “Nooo! Lil’ dude lost its maker from ancient times and’s been pining alone on this godforsaken beach-island-whatever forever!”

“Oh god,” sniffled Cardinal. “Not-not alone anymore. You have us now…”

The two looked to the spy. It was gone, vanished into the night.

The mouse threw back her head in a high-pitched sob. “LIL’ DUDE!”

#*#*#*#*

The twisted tunnels of the mine/labyrinth let out to a long, upward flight of stairs. And a haphazardly bricked-over doorway.

“I thought you said you could get us out of here,” said Amber, the syrinx’s back bent under the load of gemstones tripling the weight of their pack.

“Oh ye of little faith,” said Garn, shrugging off his pack. He picked up a sizable gemstone in either hand. “Door, meet hammer. Hammer, door!”

The rougarou slammed the gemstones against the bricks in, indeed, a most hammer-like fashion. His arms shuddered from the blow, but the wolf’s powerful muscles absorbed the force. Amber took a large step back.

Gemstones, much hardier than the bricks, knocked several fist-sized holes into the barricade before cracking themselves. Garn simply tossed the broken stones over his shoulder and replaced them with a new pair of improvised hammers. The owl retrieved the salvageable pieces behind him.

A soft, bluish light seeped through the widening gaps in the wall. Garn kicked through the weakened barricade and windmilled his arms.

He stood on a narrow, rail-less walkway over two more stories of such walkways. At their heart was an octagonal glass tank also three-stories high, its opening just below the three-stories tower's ceiling. As was a floating green diamond and gamertag.

"Jade" was held by her vanara tail and all other appendages between the surface of the tank and the tower's stone ceiling. Tentacles of pure water from the tank gripped her limbs and tail, holding her spasming body spread-eagled. 

A tentacle pounded into her clenched anus. Another ripped apart the walls of her dripping pussy. A final tentacle pistoned into her throat. 

Jade's head lolled, drool leaking from her tenacle-stuffed mouth. With her eyes rolled back into her skull, she was totally blind to the shameless wracking of her helpless body. She existed as nothing but the flesh receptor for the lancing pleasure her elemental rapist rammed through her throat, pussy, and anus.

"Oh my god! We have to save her!" Amber shrieked beside Garn.

"Hammer Time!" roared the wolf. He hurled gemstones at the wall of the tank as fast as he could throw them.

The syrinx clenched their beak but reached into their own pack. "Hammer Time!"

Wolf and owl hurled their precious cargo. The glass cracked into splintered webs.

"It's working!" yelled Garn. In his excitement, he grabbed both of their entire packs and launched them one after the other into the web's eye.

The glass shattered. Water surged from the tank, flooding the walkway. The massive, elemental-powered wave blasted Garn and Amber screaming off their feet. All three players were flushed through the second-story window into the churning surf below.

**Author's Note:**

> "And that was how they died. Again." Despite the robotic monotone, you could hear the facepalm in Doai's voice.


End file.
